


One Dinner Date (Of Many)

by JustAPLant



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: And thus god said THIS IS MY OTP, Cheesecake date is best date, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 06:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAPLant/pseuds/JustAPLant
Summary: Somebody probably invented cheesecake and that person may or may not have been a demon. And they may or may not have done it knowing a certain angel would like it.Just dudes being husbands.





	One Dinner Date (Of Many)

The demon and the angel sit at a table for two, distinctly out of place in the diner. The angel, Aziraphale, is tucking into a slice of delicate cheesecake with a graham cracker crust and lime filling. Crowley, the demon, is neglecting his water glass, reclining in his chair with un-divine nonchalance. 

 

“You know, it is quite wonderful, Crowley,” says Aziraphale. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a bit?” 

Crowley waves him off charitably. 

Aziraphale looks up from his plate, mildly exasperated. “I do wonder why you come out sometimes, if you aren’t going to try anything.” 

“I prefer a drink most of the time, you know that.” Crowley raises his eyebrows across the table. “This place was your selection. Figured they’d have something decent to drink, but no. Family establishment.” He grimaces, as though just saying those words tastes of bad wine, which it often does. 

Aziraphale sighs in agreement. “Alright, once we finish up here we can pop back home for a drink. Something good.” 

Crowley seems placated by this. 

“You know,” says Aziraphale, returning to his plate, “I heard a rumor once that humans didn’t actually invent cheesecake.” 

“Hm?” 

“Humans love it, of course, but they seem to think they have to avoid it all the time. And when they do eat it, they are overcome with guilt about the whole thing. Horribly sad.”

“Nhmnphm” says Crowley. 

Aziraphale leans in slightly with his eyes sparkling. “You don’t think it could be something one of your lot did, could it?” 

“Doubt it. Not big culinary fans, them.” 

Aziraphale shudders a little. “No, I don’t imagine they are. Still,” He shoots a delicate glance at the demon. “It’s quite wonderful work. A fine temptation. I thank them, whoever they were.” 

“Well, cheers to whoever it was." Behind the sunglasses, Crowley is a bit pleased. 

Aziraphale scrapes the last morsels from the plate and lovingly folds a set of notes under his water glass. “Would you mind if we took a little stroll before we retire? It’s a lovely night.” 

“S'pose not.” Crowley loosens the lid on a saltshaker. 

Both stand at the same time. With well-practiced ease, they join arms and proceed to the doors. 

The hostess who wishes them a goodnight watches them stroll off arm in arm and marvels at the oddity of the pair. She has dated number of men and women and has known others to do the same, but never has she seen a couple so entirely correct for one another. Of course, what she doesn’t know is that there are very few relationships that are truly inevitable and that this, certainly, is one of them.


End file.
